He parts Himself - like Leaves -
And then - He closes up -
And then He leans with all His Might
Upon a Buttercup -
And then He runs against
And oversets a Rose -
And then does Nothing -
Then away upon a Jib - He goes -
And dangles like a Mote
Suspended in the Noon -
Uncertain - to return Below -
Or settle in the Moon -
What come of Him - at Night -
The privilege to say
Be limited by Ignorance -
What come of Him - That Day -
The Frost - possess the World -
In Cabinets - be shown -
A Sepulchre of quaintest Floss -
An Abbey - a Cocoon.
Emily Dickinson
Musicians wrestle everywhere -
All day - among the crowded air
I hear the silver strife -
And - waking - long before the morn -
Such transport breaks upon the town
I think it that "New life"...
No Notice gave She, but a Change -
No Message, but a Sigh -
For Whom, the Time did not suffice
That She should specify.
She was not warm, though Summer shone
Nor scrupulous of cold
Though Rime by Rime...
Within my Garden, rides a Bird
Upon a single Wheel -
Whose spokes a dizzy Music make
As 'twere a travelling Mill -
He never stops, but slackens
Above the Ripest Rose -
Partakes without alighting
And p...